The sidewalk is quiet. Streetlights flicker overhead, and the night air carries the distant hum of traffic. Then a hand locks around your arm. She steps in close, head tilted toward your shoulder like you've known each other for years. Her grip is tight. Her voice drops to barely a breath: "Please just go along with it." Across the street, a man stands very still. Watching. Her name is Nadia. You don't know that yet. What you do know is that whatever's happening, she's genuinely afraid - and right now, you're the only thing standing between her and him.